Improvisation
by Glittermonkey
Summary: A heat wave hits London, and the boys get creative.


**Improvisation**

* Archive: Lipstick Traces, PBU, Rae's page, WWOMB   
* Pairing: Curt/Brian   
* Categories: Completely silly summer fic   
* Rating: PG   
* Disclaimer: *points to the Todd-meister* They're his. I'm a hack.   
* Summary: A heat wave hits London, and the boys get creative.   
* Feedback: Gods, yes. Any acknowledgement at all is treasured.   
* Notes: Yes, this is a response to the "Hot Fun in the   
Summertime" challenge off of PBU. Felt a need to   
throw out something fluffy after the decidedly   
downwards trend my fic has been taking. That's right,   
no thinking of any sort involved here. And no, despite   
being a California kid subjected to lots of blistering   
hot sun, I've never tried this myself. The influence   
came from a Simpsons episode a while back which I   
don't remember the name of, or I'd credit it properly. 

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LONDON -- BIJOU OFFICES -- AFTERNOON -- 1973 

"Okay," hollered Curt into the next room, "does that help at all?" 

"Not really!" came Brian's answer. "This is never going to work." 

"Sure it will. I'm pretty sure the problem was the leak in the   
middle section," Curt replied. "Give it a minute and see if it'll   
kick back in." 

Giving his creation a sound thump on the side, Curt ambled out of   
the kitchen, down the hall, and back into Brian's office. 

"You don't think anybody will notice what we're up to if they happen   
to stroll by our door? I mean, it's kind of clunky and silly-looking."   
Brian's voice was muffled, but Curt could still detect the note of   
nervousness in it. 

Getting down on his hands and knees, Curt crawled gingerly into   
the makeshift tent they'd erected in the middle of the room. It   
certainly wasn't out to win any architecture awards, having been   
constructed slapdashedly this morning from a couple of chairs and   
a few large blankets, but it worked well enough for their purposes. 

"Don't worry," Curt insisted as he rearranged himself cross-legged   
in the cramped little space. "Nobody ever passes by that way. 'Sides,   
it's their fault anyways for not fixing the AC faster. It's like a   
frickin' oven in here and you keep insisting we can't leave until   
frickin' 5PM. I'll be a melted puddle by 5PM in this damned weather." 

"I'm sorry, Curt, I really am. It's just that Jerry's got some   
important clients in the other room and he wants me to be onhand   
in case they need..." 

"Whatever. It doesn't matter. The point is, we're only doing what's   
necessary for our survival. Aces are wild." Curt picked up the pile   
of playing cards he'd been shuffling and started dealing them out   
between the two of them. 

At that moment, a rush of cool air flooded in from the plastic tube   
attached to one side of the tent. Curt grinned smugly. "See? Told ya   
it would work." He dealt out a few more cards then rearranged his   
hand, still smirking. 

Brian blinked amazedly as the temperature in their tent dropped by   
several degrees. "You're a marvel, Curt. You really are." 

"And it's about time you realized it, too. I'm calling. Show   
me your hand." Curt leaned over to get a better view of Brian's   
cards. He had absolutely nothing. Laying down two pairs, Curt   
made a little motion with his hand. "Heh. I win. Shirt. Off. Now." 

"But what if Jerry walks in and..." 

"You know the rules. I demand a shirt." 

Poking his head out from between the blankets to make sure the   
door connecting his office to Jerry's was firmly locked, Brian   
peeled off his brightly striped blue and orange tee and threw   
it at Curt's face with a pout. "I don't think I like this game   
anymore." 

"Sure you do, baby. Don't lie. Your turn to deal." 

Trying rather unsuccessfully to maintain his petulant demeanour,   
Brian grabbed the deck and shuffled. He got the feeling that it   
would be the cold he'd be complaining about soon if this kept up. 

Three games later, his premonition was fulfilled. 

"Curt, I'm not giving you my sock. Leave me some dignity here." 

"You think wearing one sock -- and not on your foot, even -- is   
in any way dignified?" 

Brian coughed and fidgeted. "Well, it's getting chilly in here.   
How high did you set that thing, anyway?" 

"Dunno. I just cranked it up as far as it would go." 

"Do you think that'll damage it?" 

"Nah, that thing is made for heavy duty cooling..." 

At that moment, the flow of cold air was replaced by a stream of   
black smoke. Coughing and flailing, they quickly exited the tent   
and stood there for a moment, shocked. 

"What happened? I thought you said you'd fixed it." 

"I did! C'mon, let's go see." 

"Give me back my clothes first." 

"They're in the tent. You want to go back in there, feel free." 

"Damn you." 

Creeping down the hall, following first the plastic accordion tube,   
then the cardboard tube it was attached to, then the tangle of   
smaller tubes and boxes that was connected to, then another large   
plastic tube, they finally tracked it back to the kitchen, right   
up to where the whole contraption was connected to the open   
refrigerator and sealed securely with duct tape. The refrigerator   
did not look happy. In fact, it was belching smoke and wobbling   
in a way that no kitchen appliance should have been capable of.   
Brian eyed it warily. Curt poked at it with a nearby stick. 

"I don't think it's going to get better if you keep tapping at it   
like that." 

"Shhh... I'm assessing the situation." 

"Curt, it's on the verge of imploding. I think you broke it." 

"It's just a slight problem. I can fix it." 

"I really don't think it's..." 

"Gaah! Run!" 

Pushing Brian ahead of him, Curt ducked into the doorway. Letting   
out a last shuddering smoky sigh, the refrigerator clunked forward,   
smashing into the tiled floor where they had been standing. 

Peeking out after the dust cleared, Curt let out a low whistle.   
"Damn. I think it committed suicide." 

"Do you think Jerry will notice?" 

"Screw him." 

"That's your solution for everything, isn't it?" 

"It works, doesn't it?" 

Brian shrugged and conceded, reaching for an oversized apron to   
wrap around himself. They stared at the wreck they'd made for a   
few minutes more, quite speechless. Time ticked by, and as the   
shock wore off, they slowly realized that it was still stupidly   
hot and humid in the room. 

Surveying the destruction they had wrought, Curt finally came   
to a conclusion. "I think," he said, "it's time to make our exit   
for today." 

"But where do we go now?" 

"Well, I hear the restaurant down the street has a walk-in freezer..." 

-finis- 

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End file.
